


if time could rewind

by cabinet_man



Category: Homestuck, swag team epic
Genre: Electricity, Oh My God, Other, Self-Insert, there's like 1 death in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabinet_man/pseuds/cabinet_man
Summary: You are jeered by none other than Lord English for the sole purpose of him requesting access to the narrative. Needless to say, you're quite amused.
Relationships: Lord English/Ashton Sampson (STE), Lord English/Original Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	if time could rewind

**Author's Note:**

> this ship started as a joke but then i got attached so. here just take it
> 
> shoutouts to my two buddies who show up in the fic :]

**\-- undyingUmbrage** **[uu]** **began jeering burningShenanigans** **[BS]** **at 17:19 --**

**uu: IT IS MY TURN ON THE NARRATIVE.**

**BS: what**

**uu: ACCORDING TO THE SCHEDULE IT IS MY TURN.**

**BS: we never made a schedule**

**uu: YES WE DID.**

**BS: when**

**uu: JUST NOW.**

**BS: what??**

**uu: YOU HEARD ME. HAND IT OVER.**

**BS: make me**

**uu: OH I WILL.**

**uu: MY IRRESISTIBLE CHARM WILL FORCE YOU.**

  
  


You sit back and stifle a laugh. Was he being fucking serious? Like. Actually fucking serious?

  
  


**BS: really**

**BS: and how do you plan on doing that mr almighty being lord english**

**uu: YOU WILL SEE SOON.**

**uu: JUST WATCH. AND WAIT.**

**uu: THEN YOU WILL UNDERSTAND.**

**BS: wait wh????**

**\-- undyingUmbrage** **[uu]** **ceased jeering burningShenanigans** **[BS]** **at 17:27 --**

  
  


The chat log closes and you find yourself being thrown into a world of confusion. You’re not quite sure why _he_ wants the narrative so badly. After all, _you_ were the one to seize it because he _let_ you. With a huff, you fall back into your chair, watching as Lord English’s chumhandle disappears from the list. He’s gone offline.

You debate whether or not you should pester someone else in the meantime. You really never know when the big guy will show up. Sometimes he’ll be here in mere minutes, sometimes he takes hours. It’s sporadic and you fucking love it.

You suppose chaos is your specialty- you _are_ a Lord of Rage after all. Sometimes your own sporadic behavior gets you into trouble, but you always manage to chaotically remove yourself from such a situation with ease. Whether it be by shouting pure nonsense about the horrorterrors that try to creep up on you from time-to-time or forcing the trouble to tear itself apart (literally), you’ve always managed to slip from danger’s grasp on you. Your hand has been forced quite a few times during your escapades, but hey! It’s not really your fault that they underestimated you in the first place.

Kill counts shouldn’t be bragged about, but you brag about yours despite how unethical it is. But then again you never really cared much for ethics in the first place. If you were in the trolley scenario, you’d probably manage to get yourself _and_ everyone killed. That’s just how you roll.

You find yourself getting side-tracked immediately by the different possibilities and outcomes regarding the trolley problem, but then there’s a ding from your computer. Hey! Someone just pestered you!

  
  


**\-- strawBewwy** **[SB]** **began pestering burningShenanigans** **[BS]** **at 17:34 --**

 **SB: ash**

**SB: just updated smopkins fic...**

  
  


And not even seconds later, there’s another ding. You’re not complaining at all- you really do love your friends! But the timing of the messages seems kind of off to you. Although maybe that’s just your paranoia talking.

  
  


**\-- eldritchManicism** **[TA]** **began pestering burningShenanigans** **[BS]** **at 17:35 --**

 **EM: is there any particular reason as to why uu is pestering me?**

  
  


You promptly decide to answer the prior chum first. You may not be so fond of ethics, but you know when to show common formality when it’s necessary.

Plus, you just really enjoy Gary’s writing and you kind of really would like to know just how exactly he’s going to destroy your heart this chapter.

  
  


**BS: oh??**

**SB: [** **[Link](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22967647/chapters/56656546#workskin)** **]**

**SB: :)**

**SB: i just think they’re neat**

  
  


You click on the link, which opens your browser and directs you to AO3 and… ohhh boy, this chapter looks like it’s gonna be a long one for sure. You bookmark the page and close your browser. You’ll look at it later, probably right before you head off to bed for the night. Mostly just because you don’t want to end up an emotional disaster so early in the day because he decided to kill off _another_ character.

  
  


**BS: ooo**

**BS: i’ll have to check it out later!! o:**

**SB: ok!! take ur time! :)**

**\-- strawBewwy** **[SB]** **ceased pestering burningShenanigans** **[BS]** **at 17:41 --**

  
  


You think you’ve left your other chum waiting for too long. You click onto the chat he opened.

  
  


**EM: are you even there?**

**EM: this is rather urgent actually**

**BS: dude what??**

**BS: wdym he’s pestering you?**

**EM: what else would I mean by “uu is pestering me?”**

**BS: well**

**BS: i mean pestering is a word**

**BS: yknow how you pester people? not even on here but like irl and stuff**

**EM: he is jeering me i mean**

**EM: via chatlog**

**BS: ohh**

**BS: i thought u meant that he was like**

**BS: actually bugging you irl**

**BS: idk why he’d be messaging you he lowkey threatened me earlier**

**EM: he what**

**BS: not in a bad way! more like**

**BS: he was all “blah blah blah i want the narrative n blah blah blah i’m gonna take it by force”**

**BS: that kinda thing**

**EM: o...kay**

**EM: and i’m related to this... how?**

**BS: idk man what’s he sayin**

**EM: he said if i tell you then he’d kill me**

**EM: and quite frankly getting killed doesn’t seem very cash money to me**

**BS: huh**

**BS: well i doubt he’d actually kill you**

**BS: he’s a fucking pushover**

**EM: he is an unstoppable, bloodthirsty time demon and you’re essentially the same thing just more... fleshy.**

**EM: and more rage than time**

**BS: okay but you’re missing the point**

**EM: there was a point?**

**BS: yes there was now listen**

**EM: listening**

**BS: okay rad**

**BS: so like**

**BS: lord english wants the narrative?**

**BS: and he said he was taking it by force like i said earlier**

**BS: but he’s taking it via his “irresistible charm” or whatever**

**BS: like i even know what the fuck THAT means**

**EM: i couldn’t tell you either because i don’t even know what he’s blabbering on about myself**

**BS: well**

**BS: shit**

**EM: mhm**

**BS: okay so we know he’s going to try and take the narrative out of my hands but we don’t know how the hell he’s gonna do that**

**BS: fantastic!**

**EM: you have the narrative though? can’t you just... stop him?**

**BS: what no**

**BS: he’s a lord of fucking time**

**BS: the narrative can’t do shit with that**

**EM: true**

**EM: so what are we supposed to do?**

**BS: idk i’m probably just gonna wait it out**

**BS: but he takes forever to like come hang out so i mean :/**

**BS: the suspense is gonna kill me for sure**

**EM: waiting it out seems like a terrible idea**

**BS: listen**

**BS: as far as i’m aware he has NEVER done this before so like**

**BS: idk what i’m even expecting from him?**

**EM: maybe he’s finally decided to kill you**

**BS: he couldn’t kill me even if he tried**

**EM: lord english is over 10 feet tall and you’re just barely over 5 feet**

**EM: he is a time demon and somehow has rippling muscles**

**EM: i don’t know how else to tell you this**

**EM: but if you and lord english ever fight i’m pretty certain he’s going to be the one to win**

**BS: wow vrissy i thought you were my friend :’( </3**

**EM: i am but i’m stating the facts here lex**

**EM: you literally cannot defeat lord english he’s just too powerful**

**BS: >:( i know but at least give me some credit here!!**

**EM: you and i both know that if i say that it’ll only inflate your ego and you’ll actually try and fight him for real**

**BS: okay yeah you do have a point there**

**BS: but i don’t think he’d ever try to fight me :)**

**EM: you say this yet he’s taking the narrative from you by force**

**BS: that doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s gonna fight me for it tho**

**EM: okay fair**

**BS: is he still babbling to you**

**EM: i think he stopped a while ago**

**EM: i didn’t bother responding to him**

**BS: lmaooo**

**BS: he’s probably mad that u didn’t reply**

**EM: or he’s on his way to kill you**

**BS: shut uppppp he is not**

**EM: hey you never know**

**BS: >:(**

**BS: well he can’t kill me**

**EM: what did i just say**

**BS: idk i think i repressed you being a bad friend to me**

**BS: it just hurt so much**

**BS: :(**

**EM: i can’t believe this**

**BS: well you better start believing**

**EM: i don’t think i would like to**

**BS: >:(**

**BS: well i think you WOULD like to**

**EM: i would like to**

**BS: great! :D**

**BS: i’m so glad you believe in me!**

**EM: i don’t**

**BS: you do**

**EM: i do**

**EM: STOP FUCKING WITH THE NARRATIVE!**

**BS: hey desperate times calls for desperate measures**

**EM: i’m certain the only thing desperate about this is your need for control**

**BS: okay i think i’m gonna go wait for uu**

**EM: oh?**

**BS: yes anyways this conversation is over**

**EM: but it’s not**

**BS: you will now stop pestering me**

**\-- eldritchManicism** **[EM]** **ceased pestering burningShenanigans** **[BS]** **at 17:58 --**

  
  


You snicker to yourself and exit the chatlog yourself. You wonder if Basil will pester you about this later, but you decide that ultimately no, no he will not be pestering you about this later. 

**In fact, his computer has suddenly disappeared and it will not reappear until tomorrow morning.**

His chumhandle disappears from the list.

God do you love having control over the narrative.

...

Well now you’re just plain bored!

You take a moment to stand up and stretch your back out. In all honesty, you probably could’ve kept talking to Basil, but what he said kind of struck a nerve? Whatever. You have other things to do, anyhow.

One of those other things includes... uhh.

You walk over to your bed and face-plant down onto it. This is the most productive thing you can think of while you wait for Lord English to show up. You highly doubt he’ll kill you. He did say that he would try to be “irresistibly charming” and unless he thought murdering you was charming, then you highly doubted that he’d do such a thing.

But Basil did manage to plant that little seed in the back of your head, and your paranoia usually gets the best of you.

You bolt upright as you hear a creak behind you and your eyes settle on one of your consorts. You don’t remember letting him in, actually, and you wonder just how long he’d been standing there. These fuckers never could let you catch a break.

The little dragon babbles something to you that you can’t quite make out before he decides to grab onto your cape and tug on it in order to get you to follow him. You comply with his silent wishes and trail behind him, making sure to open the door for him. You really don’t know how he even got in here in the first place.

Your consort leads you through the halls of your maze of a home, almost teetering over when he makes such sharp turns as a result of poor balance. You debate with yourself as to if you should pick him up and have him direct you there verbally, but he happily continues waddling through the seemingly endless corridors until you finally reach the doors that lead to the backyard. 

He babbles something to you, then attempts to open the lavish doors himself before flopping down and looking up at you expectantly.

When you open the doors, you’re... well, you’re quite surprised, to say the least.

There was literally nothing out here.

You look over to your consort, who’s also looking up at you as if waiting for something to happen.

“So... why did you bring me out here again?” You decide to ask him. His tail wags behind him as he takes a hold of your cape again and starts walking further down into the flames. Honestly you probably should’ve just left your cape in the closet today. Then again you hadn’t known that one of the little dragon dudes would be dragging you around by it as if you were a dog on a leash.

You hear the doors slam shut behind you, and you don’t bother to see who did it. But if another one of those fucking imps trashes your room again then you’re going full-on rage mode.

Today is especially warm, you notice as you start to pay more attention to your surroundings. The flames are rising higher around you and the smoke seems to be heavier than usual. It’s almost... calming.

 _Almost_.

Maybe if there wasn’t a huge fucking serpent-beast-thing cornering some of your other consorts then it would be totally calm. But then again your entire land is covered in fucking fire on a constant basis, so “totally calm” is a _huge_ overstatement.

**Upon hearing the approaching footsteps, the monster turns around to discover that one of its escaped prey has returned, but is now being accompanied by the person who the locals have deemed as being their “hero.” In all technicality, xe's actually more of a lord than xe is a hero, but xe'll take what xe can get from them.**

**Some of the other dragons have managed to escape now that the serpent is no longer eyeing them, but a few are still trapped between a blazing brand of fire and the tail of the great beast.**

**The hero steps forward, locking eyes with the serpent. Xe equips the bow that xe had stored in xyr strife specibus earlier that day, and spawns in an arrow. Xe only needs one.**

**The rest of the dragons have been completely forgotten by the monster as it readies itself for a strife.**

Little does it know that it’s in for a world of hurt. You also take this brief period of time to pat yourself on the back for delivering such a spectacular narrative performance. Lord English could never one-up you with such remarkable writing like that.

Okay, maybe you’re being a bit smug, but who cares? Your internal dialogue is only disclosed to you and has been classified from all others.

**The hero watches the serpent as it slithers around to face him completely, allowing the rest of the consorts to escape without a scrape or scratch. They scramble out of view, hopefully to somewhere that’s much safer than here. Lightning strikes somewhere off in the distance -- most likely causing more fire -- as xe pulls the arrow back on the bowstring.**

**The serpent dives down, its jaws unhinging and unknowingly leaving it completely open and vulnerable for the shot. The hero releases his grip on the arrow, the string snapping forward and successfully launching the projectile at the offender.**

**The metal arrowhead pierces the jugular of the beast, then explodes with electricity. There’s the crackling of sparks and the rising of smoke as the hero watches the serpent unhinge its jaw once more to let out an ear-piercing shriek of pain and agony. Its eyes are no more than mere slits as it shakes and quivers from the electric current. Something smells like it’s burning, and the hero finds some sort of sick, twisted pleasure to find that the scent is coming from the snake as it goes silent.**

**Xe watches it as the body collapses, looking almost frighteningly mangled as the neck twists a way that would ensure its death.**

The serpent is 100% dead as you check it over again, and your suspicions are proven to be correct as its body explodes into grist. You take the payload, feeling quite smug about it.

The consort (why can’t you remember his name? you know for sure that you gave him something simple and easy to remember) that had escorted you out here is gone, probably to go and tell the rest of the locals about your heroic victory over the giant serpent who threatened to slaughter some of his comrades from back home. Either that or he ran back to his village earlier on in the fight. But he’s not known to run away at the first sign of trouble, so you’re almost certain he’s doing the former.

You have no interest in seeing what spoils your consorts have in store for you for winning the battle at the moment, as you’re much more interested in getting back to your maze-sion to see if Lord English has gotten back to you yet. You doubt he has, but your curiosity is getting the best of you and now you’re just plain antsy.

When you arrive back at your place, you’re dismayed to find that the backdoors are locked- you never lock them, which means that someone must be inside. You have a weird feeling in your gut that you know who it is, and an even weirder feeling that you know why.

You find it incredibly annoying that you have to walk all the way around to the front of your maze-sion because some asshole locked the door behind you when you left. You heard the click of the door, of the lock. You know the big guy was there and he _knows_ that you know he was there. Well, it’s either him or an imp. Either way, you were locked out of your house and you were _not_ having it today.

After managing to pull open the front doors, you step inside to discover that the place is just as you left it. So that definitely confirms your suspicions that Lord English is somewhere in here and that there are no imps around to leave smears of black all over the place. That shit is a hazard and a real pain in the ass to clean up.

Your maze of a mansion isn’t super difficult to navigate- if you’ve lived here long enough to memorize the layout, of course- so you easily make your way back to your room. But as you progress through the halls, you start to notice some dents and cracks in the walls that weren’t there before. So by the time you reach the door, you’re not sure how to feel about seeing that no door is actually present. Cautiously, you enter in through the doorway and look around the room for anything even remotely suspicious. And then you spot it: the door.

You walk over to see if it’s possible to put it back on the wall where it belongs, but as you inspect the damage you notice that:

  1. the screws are completely missing and some of the hinges look destroyed beyond repair and
  2. there is very large and very green writing painted across the wood.



**MEET ME IN THE BALLROOM.**

Do you even have a ballroom? You can’t even remember, but if you do have one, then it’s never been used before. You don’t really have any interest in exploring your home when you can be out causing chaos and pandemonium with your one true love.

God, you make yourself cringe.

Nonetheless, you pull up a map of your maze-sion and find the room labeled “BALLROOM.” Hey, maybe you do have one after all! Although you’re not quite sure how Lord English would know that. You can’t help but begin to question just how often he’s actually been here.

Soon enough you’re walking back through the halls in order to locate this room that you don’t remember building to see just why Lord English decided to _rip your door off of its fucking hinges like a madman_ to let you know that he was here. The guy has a _ton_ of followers- surely he could’ve just sent one of them to retrieve you. But again, you like the sporadicity that follows him so you can’t stay mad at him for long. Sending someone wouldn’t be nearly as fun.

Upon your arrival to the ballroom, you suddenly feel very... self-conscious about how you look. Not about your face or hair- you’ve long since become comfortable with your looks, but it’s more about your clothes. You wonder just how quickly you can go and get changed then come back but your thoughts are quickly discarded as you hear the doors open up behind you.

Standing there, in the middle of the ballroom, is none other than Lord motherfucking English. He’s in a tailored white suit that fits him in the best ways possible, and it’s dawning on you that yes, you probably should’ve put on something nicer than your usual godtier outfit.

Lord English is, as your chum said, over ten feet tall. And compared to your own stature of only 5’2” that makes him really fucking tall. He’s almost twice your height and you wonder how this guy ever found you significant enough to actually want to pursue you romantically. For Christ’s sake, he’s a fucking time demon and the big bad boss man who you’d all have to eventually fight in order to escape your session.

But that’s a story for another time.

Lord English strolls towards you as you gape at him in astonishment. You can hear the deep rumblings of a laugh caught in his throat as you find yourself become lost for words.

“SO YOU CAME,” he says, staring down at you. You’re still not quite sure what to say, so all you do is nod at him. You had just recently gotten used to the fact that the Lord of Time doesn’t wear shirts- but _this?_ Now this was something _entirely_ new to you. God _damn_ him!

“I SEE THAT MY IRRESISTIBLE CHARM HAS STUNNED YOU,” he goes on to say. His posture is surprisingly perfect and instead of the peg leg, he’s replaced it with a larger version of the golden leg you remember him wearing when he went by “Caliborn.” He actually looks like he wants to impress you, and you seriously find yourself appreciating the effort he put into all of this. Who knows, maybe you’ll be nice for once and decide to willingly hand over control of the narrative.

_Not._

You manage to find something comprehensible to say to him.

“Well, yeah. You actually look... really nice!” You reply, feeling your face grow warm. If Lord English is blushing, you can’t really tell. Especially not from down here, anyhow. Your compliment sounded kind of back-handed, though.

But back-handed or not, Lord English seems to find amusement in what you have to say. He leans down a little to inspect you.

“DID I NOT SAY. FOR YOU TO WEAR SOMETHING NICE?” He asks, and you blink up at him. You don’t remember him _saying_ anything like that, and you’re feeling ever more self-conscious than you’ve ever been before.

“Did you..?” You ask right back, voice coming out meeker than you intended. You seriously can’t remember.

“ON THE DOOR,” he answers.

“No?” It’s a question, not a statement. He sighs and straightens himself back out.

“YOU DID NOT CHECK. THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR.”

Oh. Yeah, you didn’t bother to. But hey! If he wanted you to see it, then he probably should’ve jeered you instead of _destroying your room._

“I didn’t think that I’d have to,” you reply with a frown. “Plus- dude, you trashed my room! I didn’t think I’d have to check _underneath_ anything!”

He shakes his head. “CAN’T YOU JUST CONJURE YOURSELF UP SOMETHING? YOU HAVE THE NARRATIVE.”

“Well I _could_ but I don’t _want_ to,” you reply, just to be a brat about it.

“THEN YOU SHOULD. GIVE ME CONTROL OVER THE NARRATIVE.”

He doesn’t even hide what he’s trying to do here, and you quirk a brow up at him. Oh okay.

“I see what you’re trying to do and it is _not_ happening ever,” you reply, crossing your arms and tilting your head up at him. He looks like he wants to pout.

“THEN WOULD YOU AT LEAST CARE TO DANCE?” He asks it so smoothly, holding out a hand for you. Dancing might be kind of hard- the guy is quite literally twice your own height. It might be kind of awkward.

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to dance?”

He clears his throat and looks away from you, almost in an embarrassed manner. “I. MAY HAVE GOTTEN SOME LESSONS.” You grin at him and take his hand. He carefully pulls you further into the ballroom and the door shuts as the rest of your cape follows you inside.

It’s... a little awkward as you start up some kind of waltz. You can’t exactly press flush against him when he’s just so... _tall_ , and suddenly you’re hyper-aware of just how _big_ he is.

The silence of the ballroom is kind of eerie and off-putting, even as you stare up into those epilepsy-inducing billiard balls that Lord English has for eyes. He stares right back, and suddenly they freeze in place so as to not cause you any damage.

And then you hear it, as the tune of something familiar begins to sound from an old record player that you don’t remember having. The song is slow, sounding something similar to that of a dark-carnival-esque tune that you might hear in a horror film involving a circus. It’s one of your favorite songs, and your heart leaps into your throat. So he remembered.

His grimace softens as he watches your face light up, still awkwardly waltzing around in that same, boring way that any waltz goes. He’s taking extra care in making sure that he doesn’t step on your feet- surely that would only result in something being broken.

As the song goes on, time seems to almost stop. All that’s there in the universe are you and him, engaged in the time-old tradition of couples who know nothing yet somehow everything about love. Cherubs aren’t meant to feel that way- Caliborn explained this to you, but yet, here is Lord English, holding you cautiously as the two of you make your way around the empty ballroom.

As the song comes to a close, your movements also begin to slow and eventually you both stop. Your heart is thumping loudly in your ears and Lord English leans down, pressing your skulls together in a declaration of his affection.

Once again, you find yourself struggling to say something, anything- but this feeling is far too tender, far too fragile for you to break with meaningless words.

Plus, Lord English begins to speak for you.

“DEAREST,” he says, softly and so quiet that it takes you a moment to realize that he’s actually speaking. “DO I GET TO CONTROL THE NARRATIVE NOW?”

And then your reply, almost as soft as his, but there’s a slight giggle in your voice:

“Go fuck yourself.”

**Author's Note:**

> i like to think the song that plays during the ballroom scene is "miles away" by stone temple pilots
> 
> also follow me on twitter bc im terrible and like attention @anonumii


End file.
